Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Zimbabwe and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Cure to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T.S.O.L.,
B.T. Express,
La Düsseldorf,
Bauhaus,
Urselle,
Whodini,
The Saints,
Shoche,
the Normal,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fat Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Audionom,
Interpol,
The Misunderstood,
Swans,
Los Fastidios,
The Vogues,
The Toasters,
Scan 7,
The Fire Engines,
Rhythm & Sound,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Danielle Patucci,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bad Manners,
Lou Christie,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bill Wells,
Fela Kuti,
The Trojans,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mars,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Young Rascals,
Agent Orange,
Juan Atkins,
Marmalade,
The Dead C,
Barry Ungar,
Slave,
Excepter,
MC5,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jandek,
Supertramp,
Eli Mardock,
Model 500,
Henry Cow,
CMW,
New Order,
Ken Boothe,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Buzzcocks,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.